The Abyss

This was a relatively new apartment complex, seven stories high, mostly inhabited by middle-class families. More precisely, it was part of a residential area in a bustling part of town, convenient for shopping and transport. Dong Qin didn’t know how Lu Tuo managed to get an apartment here, but watching him open the door with practiced ease, she guessed that everyone in the organization had some personal secrets. Like Cui Yun, who also had an unreported property. These people seemed to prefer urban residences over suburban villas, perhaps as a contingency plan for unforeseen circumstances. Their apartment was on the third floor, with stark white walls and black floors, showing no signs of decoration, but it was fully furnished, even with internet. “The fridge is in the kitchen, it’s quite large. We’ll only need to shop once a week to minimize going out. Dong Qin, draw all the curtains,” Lu Tuo instructed. He turned on the TV upon entering, unsurprisingly revealing it was also a surveillance device. He then pushed the bed aside, revealing a wooden floor, and with a gentle push, opened a compartment containing several black boxes. “Setting this up in a busy area seems a bit much…” he muttered, opening a box to reveal a rocket launcher with foldable stands. “That’s a hefty gun,” Dong Qin remarked, examining it closely. Lu Tuo shook his head, “It’s not a gun, it’s a portable rocket launcher, recently modified and not yet reported to the organization. Now it can come in handy.” He set up the launcher at the study door, aiming at the front door. “I’ve calculated that one shot will obliterate that wall, buying us more time to escape.” He smiled back at her, “I was never the organization’s dog, but I didn’t expect my private stash to prove useful one day.” He beckoned her over, and they sat together under the bed. “You said this organization is so bad, why hasn’t the police shut it down?” Dong Qin whispered, or had the world become so corrupt that justice was dead? Lu Tuo laughed, “Because of the benefits, of course. The organization operates in Italy, paying millions in bribes annually, occasionally handing over some small fry to keep the police satisfied. Generally, they don’t touch the major smuggling goods, just confiscate trivial items, slap on a charge, and lock someone up. They know if they seize the main contraband, they won’t have the money for their lavish New Year’s feasts.” He continued softly, “Mr. Cao was right; only interests last forever. Wherever you go, relationships mean nothing; only mutual benefit ensures cooperation.” Lu Tuo tapped her head, “Haven’t you heard of the saying, ‘The water that is too clear has no fish’? If there were no criminals or black market, what would be the purpose of anti-corruption units? We’re two grasshoppers on the same string, live or die together.” Dong Qin hugged her knees, “There must be people in this world who can’t be bought, right? If everyone were that greedy, the world would have ended long ago. Haven’t you ever hit a wall?” Lu Tuo squinted, thinking for a moment, “Actually, there were a few times. We had cleared it with customs, but then international anti-corruption units suddenly raided. Lawrence lost several big deals and was nearly driven mad with frustration.” From that moment, suspicions arose within the organization about the presence of a mole. We dealt with many suspects, but even now, everyone is still on edge. I think there must be someone watching us from behind, waiting for the right moment to take us out. With so many smuggling groups around, even though our organization is considered one of the larger ones, it has started to decline. It’s survival of the fittest; this industry is harsh. Once you can’t consistently provide benefits to the other side, they naturally want to eliminate you. It’s a matter of principle.” Dongqin didn’t say anything. Lutuo reached out, pulling her into his embrace, his lips brushing against her hair in a gentle kiss. “These things are far from us now. By the time the organization is eradicated, we’ll probably be very old. Dongqin, are you afraid of spending your whole life in hiding?” she murmured, “Is this what we call seclusion? No job, underage… even when we come of age, we won’t be able to find work. Tuo, we might starve to death in a year or two. But I’d rather starve to death than be killed by someone.” “We can make it through,” he said, rubbing her head, “Don’t be so pessimistic. We just won’t have the luxury anymore. You’ll have to miss the luxury of the Lu family villa. I don’t have the means for that; my money is just enough to keep us from starving or freezing. Foie gras and bear’s paw are out of reach.” Suddenly, Dongqin remembered something, sat up straight, and said, “By the way, at the beginning of December, I found a job. I promised to have it done before January. What’s today’s date?” “A job? You don’t need to work.” Lutuo shook his head. “And it’s even more dangerous to go out now. Just stay home obediently.” Dongqin grabbed the calendar; it was December 31, quite the coincidence, the deadline was the next day. “This job doesn’t require going out. All I need is a computer with internet access. I’m doing translation for someone. I learned some German from Zuo Shaoan when I was young; basic translation is no problem.” Lutuo reluctantly fetched a laptop, connected to the internet, and watched her open her email to find the translation document. He was a bit displeased, pinched her waist, and pressed against her back, coldly saying, “Early December? Why the sudden need for a job when Jinghao Lu was still giving you pocket money? Or were you planning something?” Dongqin smiled, “I wouldn’t say because you’d just get angry. Actually, I was planning to leave the Lu family and live on my own after high school graduation. So, I needed some savings; Jinghao’s pocket money was never enough. But now, it looks like that plan has fallen through.” Lutuo got angry and hugged her, pinning her to the ground. “Leave? Leave what? Am I some kind of demon who tortures you? Did I make your life hell or torment you so much that you can’t wait to escape?” Dongqin tried to push him away, but his strength was too much for her. She sighed, “See, I knew you’d get mad if I told you. Why should I say it? Am I supposed to stay with the Lu family forever? I want my own life, my own pursuits. It’s got nothing to do with you; it’s my personal wish. Besides, getting angry about it now is pointless, isn’t it?” Lutuo snorted, “So, in plain terms, you have no attachment to me. What a cold-blooded woman.” Dongqin hooked her arms around his neck, biting her lip and laughing, “Yes, you’ve bullied me so much, I hate you to death.” Lutuo undid her clothes, leaving numerous fervent marks on her body, murmuring, “Then hate me harder. I haven’t had enough of bullying you.” Lutuo liked intimate moments face-to-face, leaving no room for escape. Dongqin thought, perhaps she was indeed like a bird tamed by him, turning and twisting, gradually becoming unable to live without him. His every move, light or heavy, sent tremors through her soul. What the future holds, there’s no room to ponder. His kisses and caresses were complete, airtight; even if she had thousands of wings, she would succumb to the flame. In mythology, there was a man with wings made of wax, flying towards the sun; at the moment of approach, his wings melted from the sun’s heat, and he fell from the sky. A sudden chill ran through Dongqin’s heart. Her wings, perhaps, were also made of wax. The consequence of getting too close was death. The feeling of unease seemed never to cease. Even when feeling happy, that happiness seemed illusory. Panting, Dongqin clung to Lutuo, embracing him with all her might. She didn’t want to fall, didn’t want to leave. “Tuo, harder…” she moaned, hoping to taste the flavor of death right then. While she still had him, she would burn passionately, not thinking about the future.